Cursed Love
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: She knows he doesn't need the pity people throw at him. She also knows she can't fight the demons for him. He has to want to do it for himself first. But she'll be there. Always.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

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 **Written for;**

 **Fanfiction Marathon - ChoGeorge**

 **Easter Egg Hunt - Cho Chang**

 **TV Show Quote - Love brings nothing but wasted years and endless torment.**

 **Minor Character Bingo - Cho Chang**

 **Unusual Pairing - ChoGeorge**

 **Famous Cards Comp.**

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 **Word Count - 1286**

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 **Cursed Love**

She watched him sway on the bar stool as he called for another drink. He shouldn't be served, she knew, but the barkeeper would allow him another through pity. Everyone treated him with pity, something she knew from experience, wasn't going to help him any in the long run. He needed strict but gentle words, he needed to let his tears fall, he needed to stop numbing the pain with alcohol and actually deal with the grief he'd been carry around with him for months.

She was only drinking lemonade, and truthfully, she'd only come to the Leaky Cauldron to stop the loneliness that was eating away at her from the inside out. Living alone, in self made solitude, could get too much, but it had helped her. It had given her the time she needed to deal with what had happened, and it had helped her become comfortable in her own skin again.

People still stared, children still pointed and whispered loudly, but she knew what she looked like and she'd accepted it.

He was downing his drink now, and she watched him stand unsteadily, placing the glass heavily on the bar with a clang that drew the attention of the other patrons in the bar. Her gaze wondered around, and she saw the same pity from the bartender reflected in each of their eyes as they watched the sad man sway his way from the bar.

Leaving her lemonade on the little table she'd been occupying, she followed him from the bar, keeping her distance as he stumbled and wobbled down Diagon Alley. When he stumbled a little too far, she watched as he sprawled across the floor. Other people walking the alley stared at him, but not a single one attempted to help him. She saw shaking of heads, heard mumbles of disapproval as she neared him.

"George?"

"Uh? Wha? Piss off."

Rolling her eyes, she gripped at his arms tightly, helping him to his feet. He tried to focus on her, struggled, but eventually he managed. "Who are you?"

"What, you don't remember me?" She asked, snorting. "No? I imagine you remember me when I was pretty. Come on, you need to sober up."

He shook his head but as she pulled him into a walk, he didn't protest any further. His footsteps lagged and he got slower and slower, leaving her to practically support his entire weight the final few steps to the modest flat she called home.

She pulled him inside, kicking the door shut behind them, and pushed him onto the small but comfy couch in the lounge. Even as she was conjuring him a blanket, his eyes fluttered closed. Allowing herself a small fond smile, she conjured a bucket and placed it beside him, sure he would likely need it during the night or in the morning.

With one last look at him, she left the room, climbing the stairs to where her bedroom awaited her.

.O.O.O.O.

She woke suddenly, and was disoriented for a few seconds until she heard the disgusting sounds of someone retching. With a deep sigh, she rolled over, sitting up as she did. When her feet reached the floor, she slid them into warm slippers and stood up, collecting her gown before she wandered down the stairs.

Entering the living room, the scents of sick and alcohol intermingled, attacking her sense of smell with abandon. Wrinkling her nose, she walked around the couch to sit on the edge of the single chair she kept.

"Feeling rough?" she asked lightly when he finished. Taking out her wand, she vanished the vomit, casting a very light air-freshening charm quickly after.

"Where am I?" he groaned, his hand reached to his head, delicately rubbing over his eyes.

"You're at my flat. I didn't think you should be left alone last night."

"And who are you?" he asked after a minute, cracking his eyes open enough to squint at her.

She waited for him to open his eyes properly, watched as recognition dawned on his face. "Bloody hell, Cho! What happened -"

He cut off suddenly, clapping a hand to his mouth, and for a moment she though he was going to be sick again. Instead, she saw a horrified expression take over his face as he realised exactly what had happened, and remembered exactly why she looked the way she did.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled. "So, so sorry."

She smiled at him. "I never blamed you, you know. It wasn't your fault. It was a battle and I made a split second decision that I don't regret."

"Cho, I... Merlin. You shouldn't have to deal with me, you've got enough to... you shouldn't be looking after me," he muttered, sitting up and gripping the back of the couch as the room spun around him.

"Lie down. I'll make some breakfast," she told him quietly.

"You don't have to do that," he said, though he didn't make any further move to leave.

"I know I don't."

.O.O.O.O.

They ate in silence, only the scrape of cutlery on plate making any sound. Cho finished eating first, as he pushed food around his plate, barely eating. She could see his hands shaking, knew he needed a drink, but she didn't say anything. She'd been there. She'd defeated her demons.

As much as she wanted to help him, she knew he had to beat his own demons on his own. It was the only way. She could be there for him as he did it, but she she couldn't do it for him, and she couldn't force him to do it. He had to want to do it himself.

"I should... I need to go."

She nodded vaguely, adding a half shrug. "Do what you need to do. I'll be here, when you're ready."

"I can't... Cho, I can't."

She nodded. "Okay."

"I... I'm sorry."

"Just remember there are people that love you. Still love you, and always will love you. No matter what."

She watched his face twist as emotions fought to come out. Anger, sadness, bitterness. She knew them. She knew all of them.

"Love brings nothing but wasted years and endless torment," he told her eventually. "I won't be party to that. Not any more. I'm done with love."

"You lost your twin, and I know that hurt, but he'd want you to keep living. If you want to bury yourself at the bottle of a whisky bottle, then do so, but don't tell me that you're done with love. If you was done with it, you wouldn't be in so much pain."

A single tear fell to his cheek and rolled over his freckles. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She nodded, watching him leave. He glanced back at her for a second, before he closed the door firmly behind him.

Shaking her head, Cho cleaned up the dishes. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror, she stopped. Moving closer to the mirror, she ran a single finger along the scar that marred her once pretty face. It ran, a long, angry red line, from her temple to her chin in a diagonal line. The curse that had left her disfigured had stolen the sight from one eye and left her unrecognisable. The curse that she'd dived in front of. The curse that she'd taken willingly to spare the one she loved.

The curse she'd taken for George Weasley.


End file.
